


The Family Clock

by sra_danvers, suitesamba



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Translation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-06
Updated: 2012-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-29 01:25:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/314331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sra_danvers/pseuds/sra_danvers, https://archiveofourown.org/users/suitesamba/pseuds/suitesamba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry wants to spend Christmas Eve with his partner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Family Clock

**Author's Note:**

  * For [suitesamba](https://archiveofourown.org/users/suitesamba/gifts).
  * Inspired by [El Reloj Familiar](https://archiveofourown.org/works/314327) by [sra_danvers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sra_danvers/pseuds/sra_danvers). 



> Original posted for the Secret Snarry:  
> http://snape-potter.livejournal.com/2715490.html
> 
> Thanks to my dear suitesamba for her work!!!

The Weasley family clock had more hands every year.

It was five in the afternoon on December 24th and a crowd of faces (the majority of them redheads) were scattered over the different locations spelled out on the clock. Some pointed to school, others to work. Most of them pointed to “traveling.” Only two were at home, smiling at each other then looking up as if trying to assure themselves of where they were. One of those faces was Molly Weasley’s, the matriarch of the family, who was working in the kitchen making dinner for more than twenty people. The other belonged to Harry Potter whose face had been on the clock for years even though he hadn’t married one of the redheaded Weasleys.

They considered him part of their family, and precisely because of this Harry was standing in front of the clock, looking at it guiltily. He also considered himself one of them, and though he felt honored and loved, he didn’t want to be here tonight.

The problem was that his lover didn't want their relationship to be made public, because he was a … grouch, and as stubborn as a mule. In spite of Harry spending a month trying to make him change his mind, the man had refused to accompany him tonight.

Oh, Harry had become extremely irritated last night when he’d refused to stay the night with him, probably to avoid his last minute pleas. He left him alone in bed, naked, cold and upset. Nevertheless, when he left he took the time to leave a small present in the stocking that was hanging from his chimney at Grimmauld Place.

Harry had taken it out, grumbling that he would have preferred the man to the gift, and he’d brought it to the Burrow along with the rest of the presents that he’d bought for the Weasleys. He looked at it now, small and insignificant on top of one of the enormous boxes that he’d brought. He then looked again at his face on the clock hand, seemingly happy next to Molly’s. He sighed, took off his green velvet jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, ready to help her in the kitchen.

“Harry, Harry,” sighed Molly when she saw him come in, shaking her head as she did whenever she lectured Ron. She dried her hands on the dish towel hanging from her apron and waved her wand over the pot on the stove. She then took Harry by the hand and led him back to the dining room where she made him sit down beside her. “Harry,” she said, “you know you can bring the one you love

If Harry thought of anyone as his mother, it was Molly Weasley. She knew him as well as she knew the rest of her children, and he could never hide anything from her. So he simply nodded his head, embarrassed. He’d never had this type of discussion—not with her and not with anyone. It was ironic that he was having it for the first time when he was already thirty years old.

“Then it must be that he didn’t want to come,” deduced the woman, who had noticed how preoccupied Harry had been all afternoon, how lost in thought.

Harry wasn’t surprised that Molly knew that it was a he, afterall it was a well-known secret, even though he’d never brought a man to her celebrations. What astonished him was that the woman knew him so well that she understood the reason for his restlessness. He nodded, lowering his gaze immediately.

Molly took hold of him by the chin and raised his head so she could look him in the eyes. “I have seven children, Harry. And you know I consider you my eighth.” Harry smiled—of course he knew that. “All of them have missed a Christmas, choosing to spend it with their partner. It’s normal, love, and do you know what? It doesn’t matter to me, because the next year I usually have someone new to invite to our table,” she said, winking, content and proud. “Go on—go find that old fogey and tell him he has a whole year to prepare himself, because next Christmas I want to see his arse here sitting on one of these chairs, next to you.”

Harry’s eyes opened as wide as saucers, as much because of the word she’d used as from surprise that Molly knew who was sharing his bed these days. It seemed he hadn’t been as discreet as he thought he had been.

“Now take that gift you’ve been staring at all afternoon and go find him before Ron gets here and you have to explain to him why you’re not spending the evening with us.”

“Ron knows?” he asked, alarmed. His friend was the one person he most feared telling.

“No, but Hermione suspects. As did I before I saw your name on that gift. I’d recognize that handwriting anywhere, after seeing it on all those notes we used to get because of the twins.”

Harry smiled at what she’d revealed to him. Fortunately no one else would see the gift, because he put it in the inside pocket of his jacket and disapparated with it in search of his beloved grouch.

Molly smiled knowingly. She hoped Severus Snape made her Harry happy.

He’d better—for his own good.

**********************************

Harry apparated directly into Severus’ potions shop. As he had expected, the lights were out and the _Closed_ sign was on the door.

He went into the back shop that Severus used as a storeroom. He knew the wards would let him into the laboratory, that is if his partner wasn’t making a potion that was too dangerous.

He was able to enter, but was surprised to find the room was also empty and dark. There were no cauldrons on the fire and the table was clear of instruments and ingredients.

It was obvious that Severus had closed up and would not be returning to the shop this evening.

Assuming that he’d already gone home, Harry apparated directly to Severus’ home, where the wards also let him in. But the house was as empty and as dark as the shop.

The only option he had left was to return to Grimmauld Place. But Severus wasn’t there either. The house was just as dark and silent as he’d left it only a few hours ago.

Severus could be shopping in Diagon Alley. Or perhaps he’d gone to Hogsmeade; or even to Muggle London.

Harry pointed his wand at the wall clock that was hanging in his dining room, and with a _Lumos_ lit up the faces that adorned it. Ron and Hermione had already arrived at the Burrow with their children. They were the ones that had given him the clock, back before Rose and Hugo were born. They’d also added the faces of Andromeda and Teddy, which were now aligned even though Teddy’s hand spent the better part of the year pointed at the Hogwarts crest. Harry decided to take his godson his Christmas present now instead of waiting until the next day when he went to his house for dinner.

In any event, looking for Severus without having a clear idea of his whereabouts was surely a waste of time. It would be easier if his face was on the clock along with his most cherished friends and family, but of course, that would mean that their relationship would be discovered by the friends that regularly visited his house. And his grouch did not want to reveal their realtionship, no matter how much he had pleaded.

He cancelled the _Lumos_ and summoned his godson’s gift, which flew out from under his small Christmas Tree. Andromeda had already been using her gift, a magnificent Muggle oven, for nearly a week and he looked forward to sampling its excellent offerings the next day.

With one last glance at his prized clock, he disapparated.

 

**********************************

 

It took Harry a while to escape with his godson begging him to stay, but in the end he managed to leave with the promise that he’d be back the next day and they’d eat Christmas dinner together.

He went by Severus’ house then, but found it just as empty as it had been earlier. He went by the Potions shop even though he really didn’t expect to find him there, and indeed he didn’t. He could hear the the festive voices of people walking through the bright and decorated alley, but inside nothing could be heard and hardly anything seen. Harry loved the shop, so sober and elegant, just like its owner. He’d spent a lot of time here, ordering and purchasing potions and philtres that he didn’t need, all for the opportunity to flirt with the intriguing man he’d discovered under the shy exterior of his former professor.

He shook his head to rid himself of disturbing images of how he’d finally seduced him on this very counter, seeing people pass by as they walked down the alley, even though they themselves couldn’t be seen, thank Merlin. Now he had to find Severus so they could celebrate Christmas Eve—it didn’t matter where—as long as they were together.

He apparated back to his house one more time, and even though he didn’t really expect Severus would be there, there he found him, toiling at the dining room table, apparently taking apart his precious clock.

“Severus!” he called out, happy to have found him at last.

Snape stood up, surprised by his shout, and approached him in two long strides, looking at him as if he were about to take points from Gryffindor. Harry didn’t care—he was engrossed in Severus’ incredible presence. His partner also wore a velvet suit that perfectly matched his own, though it was of a more old-fashioned cut. His hair had been elegantly tied back and he could detect a delicious aroma rising up from his neck.

“Wow, you look great…”

He couldn’t say anything more because his mouth was suddenly attacked, passionately, treacherously. If his body had been hot in the store (remembering their intense first time together), now it was nearly on fire, and this from nothing more than a kiss. Severus was making him lose control, kissing his lips, firmly, forcefully. One arm held him fast around the neck, the hand reaching around to unfasten his jacket buttons with a gentle caress. The other hand was moving over his chest, grazing over his nipples, making him struggle for breath. Then it reached inside his jacket. Harry wanted to be undressed, secretly hoping to end up on top of his own dining room table as he had that day on his lover’s countertop.

Seemingly in defiance of what he craved, Severus removed something from the inside pocket of his jacket and stepped away from him, leaving him hot and bothered, then returned to the table and began fiddling with the clock again.

Instead of complaining, Harry rearranged his attire and got control of his breathing. He was used to his partner’s mood changes, but attacking him like that only to abandon him, leaving him cold, was inexcusable.

“What’s gotten into you?” he said. And what’s more important than continuing to kiss me like that? he thought.

Severus didn’t answer, nor did he pay him the least attention. He continued what he was doing, immersed in his work, until he finally seemed sufficiently satisified. He then levitated the clock with his wand, returned it to its place and proceeded to cast two more spells.

Harry recognized those spells. He himself had cast them to add Teddy and Andromeda, and later again when Rose and Hugo were born. And now there was a new hand on his clock, next to his own, pointed to home. Severus’ face was as inflamed as his own, and the two kept looking at each other with desire, just under the word “Home.” It was perfect, and now he loved all the more the precious gift his best friends had given him on that long-ago day. On that day he felt like his old house had become a real home. The inclusion of his partner on the clock now made it a real family’s clock.

He looked at the table where the paper his gift had been wrapped in lay crumbled into a ball. Severus had gotten him so turned on that he’d hardly realized he’d taken the gift back from him and unwrapped it himself. But he didn’t care; the surprise was even better once it was on the clock. It was a perfect gift and even more perfect because of what that new hand meant.

“You realize that everyone will ask why you’re up there,” he stated, wanting to hear from Severus’ own lips that it didn’t bother him that their relationship would soon become public knowledge.

“Those who visit this house will have already found out about us,” Severus commented, enigmatically.

“Oh, really?” asked Harry, playing along with him. “And how is that, may I ask? Are you going to put a classified ad in _The Prophet_?”

“I believe accompanying you to Christmas Eve dinner at the Burrow will make things sufficiently obvious. And anyway, it’s free.”

“You’re going to the Burrow? With me?” said Harry enthusiastically, already forgetting the game.

“I’ve actually just come from there, where I thought I’d find you, but you’d already left to look for me,” he commented with his most reprimanding tone. “Of course, it’s too much to ask that an impetuous Gryffinddor such as yourself stay quietly where you belong. Who do you think told me where you had put my gift?”

Harry looked at the clock one more time and smiled happily before throwing himself in the arms of—now he really could think it and believe it—his partner.

“I wanted to be with you,” he said by way of apology. “Besides, wasn’t it better to give me my present in private?”

“Of course. Not to mention that I had to bear the impact of ‘the news’ all alone,” he said ironically, tightening his possessive hug even more.

He couldn’t imagine Severus trying to explain why he was at the Burrow. He’d have to ask Ron to share that memory with him—if he ever forgave him for not having told him earlier.

“I’ll make it up to you. Later,” he said, offering his body as recompense.

“Oh, you will indeed. And I must add that depending on how the party turns out, you may have much more to make up for,” he threatened before kissing him possessively, a warning that he not leave his side all evening. “And now let’s go see if we can conceal our arrival until that whole crowd sits down.”

Harry laughed before stealing one last kiss and heading toward the fireplace still holding his partner’s hand. There was no way they wouldn’t be noticed, but that’s how he wanted it. He’d wanted to spend this evening with the person he loved, but spending it with the family that he loved as well was all the better. Afterward, he’d handsomely reward his beloved grouch.

When they disappeared through the floo, their faces on the hands of the family clock moved together to The Burrow.

FIN


End file.
